My husband cannot be trusted alone with scary movies. He ends up losing sleep and squeezing a cat all night in fear of various and assorted spooks and spirits. His philosophy is, if something is chasing you, run outside. There’s more space! Whereas I am of the belief that if you never go looking for spooky stuff in the first place, then you don’t have anything to worry about.
Occasionally, we’ll watch those ghost hunting shows together, they’re so corny. “OH! I FELT SOMETHING! OH! THAT STATIC SAID IT WAS GOING TO KILL ME!” If we’re going to start interpreting every ambient noise around us, then I’m fairly certain my kitchen faucet wants to eat my brains. I’m not sure what possessed me to go poking around the Roosevelt Hotel late at night, somewhere in the back of my head was a future conversation with Cody:
“So the hotel I stayed at in LA was haunted.”
“Did you go explore?”
“Why not? HOW WILL YOU EVER KNOW? I can’t believe you didn’t go look around.”
I read the various legends of the hotel and set out down the hallways (alone) to see what I could find. What did cynical little Casey find? Watch this and find out:
Find more of Casey’s writing on her blog moosh in indy or her Babble Voices site Shutterlovely. She’s also available on twitter, facebook, flickr and Instagram. If you can’t find her any of those places? Check the couch, she’s probably taking a nap.
Photo Credit: Megan Jordan